


First Round

by amy_star



Series: First (Ambreigns) [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amy_star/pseuds/amy_star
Summary: Set the week prior to the brand split in July 2016. One last hurrah for old friends...Posted as part of the 25 Days of Chrismuts challenge on Tumblr.





	First Round

The week before the brand split, after the SmackDown taping, a bunch of the guys went out as a last hurrah because who knew what would happen after Tuesday? So it was a shit-ton of drinking, partying like you usually don’t see except after a major pay per view, and Dean was able to keep up with the best of them. So it wasn’t a surprise that as things were winding down, close to 3 am, the bar had only Dean, Roman, Jericho, and Rollins. 

“Barkeep!” Jericho yelled, flailing an arm around in a way that he probably thought came across as authoritative, but truthfully was more like a cowboy trying to stay on a bucking bronco. “Another round for me and my friend Dean here before you close up!”

“Hey man, you sure you need another?” Seth smirked over Jericho’s head at Roman, who grinned back. Roman was still nursing his 3rd beer and was just pleasantly buzzed, and Seth still had half his ungodly-expensive microbrew in front of him. Dean and Chris, on the other hand, had been downing some kind of flavored vodka tonics and had probably tripled what Roman had. By unspoken agreement, Seth was staking out Jericho and Roman was going to take care of Dean when they finally got kicked out tonight, so slowing them down was in their best interests.

“There’s no such thing as too many!” Dean yelled, far louder than necessary, and twirled on his barstool. “Least not if I’m not paying!” He toasted Jericho with the last of the drink in his hand.

“Easy there, Champ.” Roman laughed. Truthfully, he usually would have called it a night hours ago, because he loved his sleep, but knowing that this was going to become a rare opportunity in a very short time made him want to stay until the end.

“Can you believe that we’re probably gonna be split up?” asked Seth.

“Makes sense. There’s only so much they can do with the three of us in various combinations. So I’ll probably end up with one of you, but they’re definitely gonna split y’all up,” said Roman, gesturing between himself, Seth, and Dean.

“’Specially since I’mma be a FIRST ROUND!” Dean said, again way louder than he needed to. “I’m World Champ, baby!” He toasted Roman this time. “And Seth’s gonna be first pick too.” 

“Well…” Seth ducked his head in an attempt at modesty, which made both Roman and Chris bust out laughing. 

“I should be a first round. I’m the first ever Undisputed Champ! But the band is working on a new deal, so they can’t plan for me, so I’ll probably be second or third. Where do you think you’ll end up, Roman?” asked Jericho, gesturing with his fresh drink, just catching it before it spilled.

“Dunno. Hoping second round, hoping Smackdown. These fans though… all the boos… if I could get the heel turn it’d be easier, but Vince wants me “fan friendly” for press events and stuff. Probably nothing’s gonna change for me any time soon.”

“That’s stupid. You’re a good wrestler, you can make money, so they should just do it. They put the belt on me and I ain’t exactly what you’d call press-friendly. You don’t see me on Good Morning America, do you? Back in the Shield I did a ton of TV but they always sent me with one of you because I have a tendency to… get out of hand alone. Heel or face don’t matter. Seth did a lot of press as a heel too, right?” Dean frowned.

“Sure did. I can’t see any of us going lower than 3rd round. We’re all the faces of the company, right?” Seth toasted them all. He made eye contact with the bartender, who looked pointedly at the door. “Come on guys, let’s let the poor staff get home to bed.”

Dean staggered off his stool first, valiantly attempting to keep his feet under him, and secretly grateful when Seth grabbed his arm to steady him. Jericho didn’t even try, just imperiously threw an arm out and said, “if Ambrose gets an escort, so do I!” 

Dean dropped Seth’s arm and mumbled, “I’m doin’ just fine by myself, thank you very much.” Seth just rolled his eyes and picked Jericho up into a fireman’s carry and headed to the elevators. Roman laughed softly and threw Dean’s arm over his shoulder and followed them to the elevator bay. 

“Okay boys, what floors do I hit?” asked Seth, quickly punching in 17 for himself.

“Shit. I don’t even remember.” Dean leaned heavily into Roman as the elevator started its upward climb.

“Guess you’re bunking with me on my floor, Champ,” said Roman, pushing 5.

“12. I don’t feel so good. Is this elevator moving sideways?” mumbled Chris, who had stared to look a little green. 

Just then, the doors dinged open on the 5th floor. “Good luck with that, Rollins,” laughed Roman, as he manhandled Dean out of the elevator.

“And if he upchucks on the elevator, take the stairs to yours. You should be able to handle that, right Captain Crossfit?” Dean laughed.

“That’s Crossfit Jesus!” Seth called out, with a half-amused, half-horrified look on his face as the elevator doors closed.

It was slow-going, weaving down the hall. Roman’s room was a corner one, and drunk Dean was also loud Dean, so there was a lot of shushing and giggling. Roman had to park Dean against the wall to get his key card out and get the door open before tugging Dean into the dark room.

It would be a lie to say that Dean was too drunk to know what he was doing when he grabbed Roman by the belt loops on his pants and pulled their bodies flush with one another, but it did give him enough of an out that he was willing to take the risk. The fact that the room was completely dark except for the moonlight coming in through the open curtains helped. 

“You okay?” Roman asked softly as he brought his hands up to Dean’s shoulders.

It took Dean a moment to decide how to answer that. Finally, he managed a hoarse, “no.”

“No. I’m not okay. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again. One week, Ro. One fucking week.” Dean brought his arms around Roman’s back and clung to him.

“Hey, hey man. It’ll be fine. Not like we’re dying or anything. We’ll see each other, we have phones, it’ll be okay.”

Dean pulled back slightly. “No, Ro. No. You don’t get it. I just… I…” He couldn’t figure out how to put it in words, so he just gave up. He brought his hands up to Roman’s face and delicately cupped it, treating him like he was going to shatter, and gently pressed his lips to Roman’s. He held his breath, waiting for Roman to push him away or deck him or something – 

And Roman sighed, and parted his lips.

It was like a whole new world opened up.

They kissed like they were drowning, tangling limbs together, crashing over suitcases, knocking the desk chair over, finally making it to the bed and collapsing on it together. They made out like teenagers for what felt like forever, before Roman pulled back, laughing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ambrose. You wait until now to make a move? Now? For real?”

“What do you mean? Why didn’t you make a move?”

“I thought I did. All those fist bumps I pulled into hugs?”

“For fuck’s sake, Ro. That’s not how you make a move!”

“I wanted to be subtle! Obviously something you know nothing about, Mr. Pull-You-In-And-Grind.”

“I did not grind. Much. Besides, I’m feeling terrible and heartbroken over here.”

“And whose fault is that? You could have said something months ago.”

“Years, Ro. Years. Always.” He sighed. “ I… couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t take it if you never wanted to talk to me again. I only got up the balls to do it tonight because I had about five drinks too many and time was about to run out.”

Roman leaned in and pressed his forehead to Dean’s for a moment. “Always?”

Dean made a sound that was half-laugh, half sob. “Yeah. From the moment I saw you, I was a goner. Most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and once I found out you were such a great person inside… I just did whatever I could to be around you.”

“Oh, baby.” Roman pressed a kiss into Dean’s hair. “Wish you’d said something. I never thought you’d be into me… I mean…”

“I’ve never hid that I’m into guys, Ro. I even introduced you to one of my exes as my ex. You’re the one who’s never talked about it.”

“I meant I never figured I’d be your type. I’ve only seen you with people who were more… petite than me.”

“What the… for real? You, sex-on-legs Roman Reigns, thought there would be anyone in the world not willing to get with you because you aren’t some dainty flower? Especially me, who is not super affectionate with anyone but who will take literally any excuse he can find to touch you?”

“Sex on legs, huh?”

Dean felt his face heat with a blush and hoped Roman wouldn’t notice. ”Yeah. You’re tall, and stacked, and have a face that could have been carved by Michaelangelo. Then there’s the hair, and… Yeah.” He trailed off self-consciously and chewed on his lip.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re cute when you’re flustered?”

“You think I’m cute?”

“Adorable. Would I be making out with you like a horny teenager if I didn’t?”

“I am not adorable. I’ll take cute. Ruggedly handsome. Devilishly dapper. Sexy as hell. But not adorable.”

“You’re adorable when you’re mad too.” Roman kissed him again to keep Dean from being able to disagree. He rolled Dean onto his back and slid a hand underneath Dean’s t-shirt, exploring his chest.

Dean moaned into Roman’s kiss and tried to unbutton Roman’s shirt before giving up and just tugging it upward so he could return the favor. “Goddamn, I wish I’d stopped drinking about two hours ago. I am literally praying right now that I don’t get a major case of whiskey-dick because I really really want you to get me off tonight.”

Roman slid his hand down. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem here, Champ.”

Dean’s hips snapped up involuntarily the second he felt Roman palm his dick through his jeans. “Yeah. Clothing needs to come off, now. Christ Almighty, Ro. The things I want to do to you…”

“Easy there. You’re so drunk you can’t stand, maybe you should take it slow, huh?”

“Isn’t there a ton of time to make up for? I feel like I’m owed at least a dozen orgasms tonight at a minimum.”

“Aren’t you a greedy motherfucker, then? I’ll have to get started.” Roman started undressing Dean, kissing every place as it was uncovered, then slowly stripped himself down as Dean stared, openmouthed. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. So beautiful. I can’t wait to see you in sunlight, but by moonlight you’re fucking stunning, Ro. And I get to touch you?”

“Dean Ambrose. Who knew you were a closet romantic? And you damn well better touch me, if not I’m gonna have to do a whole lot of touching of myself.”

Dean closed his eyes and moaned again at the mental images that produced, only to open them to see Roman stroking his own cock. “For fuck’s sake – and I mean that literally – get that cock over here and let me have it, Ro.”

Roman smiled and sauntered back over to the bed, still stroking himself. “See something you’re interested in?”

“You ain’t gonna save any of that for me? I see how hard you are, and I wanna taste it for myself.”

Roman’s hand faltered at that. “Gonna put that filthy mouth to use, Ambrose?” 

He reached the bedside but didn’t sit down. Dean propped himself on an elbow and reached out a hand, gently tracing the vein in Roman’s dick. “God knows I need something to occupy my mouth. I get… wordy… when I’m extremely drunk.” He smiled up at Roman, then leaned over and took as much of Roman’s cock in his mouth as he could in one stroke.

“Holy fuck, Dean!” Roman reached a hand out to brace himself on the headboard as he was suddenly weak in the knees. For a guy who was too drunk to walk, Dean was an impressive whirlwind while mostly lying down. He was going to town, swirling his tongue around the head of Roman’s cock, tracing the vein with his tongue, then suddenly taking most of his length in and sucking gently. Swallowing down as much as he could take before gagging. Bobbing back and forth quickly while matching his pace with his hand, twisting his wrist on every stroke. All Roman could do was hang on and enjoy. All too quickly, Roman realized he was going to come if Dean didn’t slow it down. “Dean, Dean, slow… I’m not gonna last if you keep this up.”

“Don’t care. Wanna taste you. Please, Ro.” Dean looked up at him then took him fully into his mouth and hummed, and that was it. Roman tried to pull back, but Dean just held his hips and worked his throat until Roman exploded into it. Dean kept Roman in his mouth and swallowed everything Roman had until he was done.

Dean pulled back with a Cheshire Cat grin. “I’m a man of many talents, Roman.”

Roman sat hard beside Dean on the bed. It took him a minute to collect himself. “I see that.” He leaned in to kiss Dean again, and as soon as their tongues met, Roman reached down and grabbed Dean’s cock. It was already leaking and so hard it must have been painful, but Dean hadn’t touched it while he was busy with Roman’s dick. Dean was keening wordless cries into Roman’s mouth at the faintest of movements of Roman’s hand, so it was clear he was already pretty close. 

Roman pulled back to return the favor, but Dean stopped him. He was practically babbling. “Please, Ro, please, I’m so close I can’t take it, just keep your hand on me.” He was wild-eyed and had an iron grip on Roman’s arm, and was thrusting shallowly into Roman’s hand. “Please, please, fuck, Ro, it’s been so long, I’ve waited so long for this, I can’t…” he tilted his head and watched Roman’s hand work his cock, smearing the pre-come around. “Jesus, Ro, I feel like I’m dreaming, I just… please!”

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. You can come for me.”

Like he was waiting for permission, Dean finally came with a sob. Roman leaned over and kissed him deeply through his orgasm, then gave Dean a bit of a show by licking his hand clean. Dean shuddered at the sight. “Fuck, Ro. Did we really just do this?”

“Pretty sure we did.”

“Are we drunk enough that we’re pretending we didn’t in the morning?” Even in the dim light, Roman could see the apprehension in Dean’s eyes. 

“Well, you’re pretty far gone, but I’m not. Besides, I want to do this again, so why would I pretend it didn’t happen?”

“You’re… you’re okay with this? I mean, like, us?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. You’re ruggedly handsome and good in bed. Why would I not be?”

At that, Dean’s confident swagger came back. “I’m actually great in bed. And you’re not bad yourself. Although if this is something we’re gonna do on the regular you need to get with the program and have some lotion or something at the bedside, ready to go.” He relaxed into Roman’s chest as Roman pulled the covers over them both. “I also don’t snuggle, for the record. ‘S just cold in here now that we aren’t making out.”

“Sure thing. Whatever gets you to sleep, sugar.”

“DO. NOT. No weird pet names. Just us. ‘K, Ro?” Dean murmured, already mostly asleep. 

As Roman was about to drift off, he heard Dean murmuring. “You’re my first round pick, Ro. Always.”

The next morning was hell, what with the massive hangover and trying to find Dean’s room to collect his stuff and having to get to the airport, but also surprisingly relaxed between the two of them. At the airport, Roman took Dean’s phone and scrolled through to the contacts. He tapped something in quickly before tossing it back to Dean. He smirked and walked backward toward his gate. Dean looked at his phone, and saw the change Roman had put in. 

He’d changed his name in the contacts to First Round. Dean shook his head and smiled, that rare full smile that showed off his dimples, and looked up at Roman. Roman just waved and turned away to his gate. “This is gonna be awesome,” Dean whispered to himself before going the opposite direction to his own gate.


End file.
